


Riddle me this. (Edward Nygma/Fem!Reader)

by Callendra



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I have no idea how to tag this fiction xD, Nygma's POV, Riddles, paper chase, your pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6124278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callendra/pseuds/Callendra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You work at the GCPD and in order to catch Mr Nygma's attention, you start a game of riddles. (spoilers season 1)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riddle me this. (Edward Nygma/Fem!Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos! ♥
> 
> (h/c) = your hair colour  
> (f/n) = your first name  
> (l/n) = your last name

The GCPD was full of people bustling about. Cops with files or criminals under the arm, citizens of Gotham, forensics. The high and large working place was buzzing with life and sound. Typewriters clicking, phones ringing, people talking... the grand hall was never quiet. Except for the late evenings when you had to stay a little longer to tidy your documents. Then, the lack of life made it look like some kind of ghost place. Not in a scary way, but in an unpleasant one. This is when you liked it the most: during the day.  
The police station was your working place. You weren't an investigator or a profiler. Most of the time you were standing behind the large counter at the end of the hall, where people were coming for information or to file a complaint. Here you were not exposed to murders and blood. Usually at least, when the station was not the stage of some gruesome event. Overall you liked your job, you felt useful. And your closest co-workers were enjoyable. One of your colleagues, whom you had talked to a few times, had caught your attention particularly.

  
Edward Nygma was working in forensics. He was known for his weirdness and his love for riddles. And secondarily for his good work, but well, details. For other people it seemed to be a detail. Often now you had seen cops like Bullock clip his wings. You couldn't say that you didn't understand though: while working on a case, they surely didn't have the luxury to spend time on riddles and mind games. Nevertheless, you didn't like nor approve the harshness he had to suffer. For most people his eagerness was weird, creepy even. For you it was a breath of fresh air. All day long, the faces you met were tainted with either concentration, pain, fear or anger. His genuine excitement and smiles were more than welcome to you. The spark glistening in his eyes when he seemed to find a clue, coupled to his giant grin, was unlike any other expression in here.  
Uncountable times now since you had started working here, you had overheard him submitting riddles to people. Most of the time you tried to solve them in your mind. You weren't an expert on riddles, but you were practising, just in case Mr Nygma decided to try you. Until now, he had never tried. Actually, you doubted he thought anything of you. And that was upsetting.

  
Once you had decided to make a move. A riddle ready for his eyes only, you had made your way towards the labs where he worked. Midway there, you had heard his voice coming from the records keeper office. You had stopped in your track then, hearing the eagerness in his tone as he talked to her, Miss Kringle. Disheartened to hear him trying to have a date with her, you had left with your riddle. This had been the moment when you discovered your crush for him. It never really occurred to you before that you could be interested in him in this way.  
You didn't really know this Kristen Kringle. You knew that she was good at her job and rather a discreet person, but not much more. What you knew as well was the many rejections she had thrown at him. Why exactly did he fancy her? Clearly she wasn't really interested. Flattered, surely, but interested? You highly doubted that. Was he unconsciously after the challenge? Possibly. It suited his personality pretty accurately. But what about you then? Clearly he didn't pay much attention to you either. But **he** was way more interesting than she was.

Standing behind your counter, your gaze roamed over the room. It was a slow day for you, but not for the station. On the other side of the hall, you could see detectives Gordon and Bullock arguing, surely about the better angle to work on a case, but you didn't know as much. You looked down at the last deposition a citizen gave you, reading it all over again. Glancing up again, your gaze stopped on the tall man in a grey jacket grinning at Gordon. Your stomach made a little flip. He was visibly expecting a reply from the DI, his large smile perceptible even from where you stood. You frowned with frustration when his smile died suddenly with disappointment. Gazing back down, your focus no longer left your work, much like your annoyance no longer left you. When it was finally time for your break, you decided to take a little time for yourself.

°°°°°

The report of his examinations in his hand and disappointment on his face, Edward made his way back to his labs. This time it had been an easy riddle, he had thought that Jim would be receptive. Bullock had never shown any kind of interest for his games, but somehow he continued to try. He didn't really think about it. It came to his mind, he said it, with the tiny hope it wouldn't fall flat. With Jim, who had already given one or two correct answers in the past, it was different. But not this time. Well, maybe next time.  
“ _Maybe next time... do you even hear yourself?_ ” Ed's lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed for a moment. “ _Aren't you tired to seek their attention? They don't care... They think you are a freak._ ”  
“You're wrong, Detective Gordon doesn't. He already answered some of my riddles.”  
“ _Of course he does... the look on his face is eloquent enough, nevermind his verbal rejections._ ”  
“Not always...” the forensic retorted silently. Jim was one of the few people – along with Essen – not to blatantly crush him, he wouldn't let his name be dragged in the mud. “He cares. Now leave me be.” he added a little more sternly. A cringing chuckle echoed in his mind.  
“ _As you wish... but you need me..._ ” A little silence fell on the room. “I don't need you.”

  
Straightening and readjusting his glasses, he concentrated his mind back on the current case, working on forgetting the unfortunate discussion he just had. Progressively, his good mood replaced his feeling of insecurity, as he examined for a while the light blue fluorescent chemical liquid linked to the case. “What is in a tube, shines in the dark, but is not a lightning bug and shouldn't be touched by humans?” He paused, contemplating the test tube in his gloved hand. “This highly toxic mix of fluorophor, diphenyl oxalate and hydrogen peroxide. Correct.” He smirked to himself. Not your typical glowstick formula. He put the tube back into its secured place and exited the room, making his way to Miss Kringle office. Spurn on by his successful examination, he would try and speak with her again.  
As he returned to his labs, a little smile was playing on his lips. She had actually shared a little conversation with him, her lips had even faintly curled. So when his gaze fell on the little envelop laying on the table, his smile turned into an excited grin. “Riddle me this...” he read aloud. The words were written – or rather typed – in black italics. Intriguing. He quickly tore it open and avidly cast his eyes on the riddle.

_“I am the stage of what matters and what's unreal. Past, present, future, I see all of it. Life and death are my routine, but unmoved I keep inflating.”_

Edward's gaze lingered on the letters while he thought it over. His smile reappeared on his full lips, creating dimples all around his mouth. “The Universe.” he stated. Turning it around he discovered another sentence. “When you figure out the answer, hide another riddle behind the vending machine.” Still holding the paper in his hand, his head turned to the door, his mind directed to the records keeper office. Taking it along with him, he exited the labs, heading directly towards the subject of his thoughts. Yet he never reached it, as Bullock and Gordon intercepted him midway there, dragging him along with them to a new crime scene. Pursing his lips with mixed feelings of interest, he followed after them. During the investigation, his mind never stopped swaying back and forth between the matter at hand – right now being the dead man with fluorescent chemical oozing from his mouth – and Miss Kringle's mysterious little riddle. At one point, when he was zoning out a little too much, Bullock's harsh tone brought him back to the situation. Staring at him a bit blankly for a few seconds, he got back to work soon after.

His blurred silhouette appeared in the glass window before he pushed the door open. Kristen Kringle looked up, her mouth closing as she recognized him. She straightened in her chair.  
“Mr Nygma.” she greeted him, almost neutrally. “Is there something you want?”  
Edward addressed her a smile before he turned around to carefully close the door behind him. Then, joining his hands in front of him, he walked to her in his usual stiff gait.  
“Miss Kringle.” he greeted her back in a dynamic and quick answer. “I simply want to tell you that I received and read your message. And I appreciated it. It goes without saying.”  
“What message?” Her confused expression unsettled him a little but he didn't give up.  
“Your riddle. The answer is the Universe.” He grinned triumphantly, waiting to see pride in her eyes.  
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr Nygma. I have work to do.” She objected, this time a little less neutrally. He was being very odd again with her, in those moments she understood nothing of him.  
Frowning in disbelief, he stared at her. “You are not the one who left this riddle for me?” he inquired, lifting the paper next to his head for her to see.  
Her gaze shifted to the paper before she locked it on his again. “I am not. Now please, leave.”  
He remained still a few seconds before he bowed slightly. “I am sorry, Miss Kringle.” he assured briefly and turned on his heels to leave.

Back in his labs, he sat down at the table, contemplating the mysterious paper. He turned it around, looking for clues, tiny little details that would lead him to its sender. He even thought about running a fingerprints test. But no, wrong angle. Too many people could have touched this sheet of paper and this envelop. What he had to do, and would do, on the other hand, was to spy on the vending machine area. Grinning excitedly, he reached for a piece of paper and wrote a riddle of his own. Satisfied with the looks of it, he left the labs.

°°°°°

A hot beverage in your hand, you were sitting on a chair in the main room of the GCPD. From your spot, you had a clear view of the vending machine. It was a strategic position, you thought, because you were still pretty lost in the crowd. From time to time you glanced up there, getting both frustrated and hopeful. Since the moment you had sneakily left the riddle in his labs, your thoughts had been mostly focused on this special area of the station. You knew he wouldn't – couldn't – pass such an opportunity, but you didn't know when he would respond to it. Between two depositions and bad news, it was so thrilling.

Finally, you got a glimpse of a movement and looked up. There he was, gazing around with malicious spark in his eyes. He looked like a little imp, or rather a giant one. He looked adorable. Seeing his face turning towards you, you averted your eyes and took a sip of your drink. You didn't see his brown gaze stopping on you for one second. When you looked up again, he was placing an envelop behind the vending machine, as instructed. You watched him glancing around expectantly one more time before he walked away. Smirking to yourself, you finished your drink. You cautiously made your way to the mystery spot. You stopped at the corner and leant against the wall. You were not actually sure if Mr Nygma was waiting nearby, unnoticed, or if he really wanted to remain ignorant of your identity. Mr Nygma was not one to like being ignorant... but he liked a challenge as well. You didn't want him to know so soon, you wanted to play. To tease his curiosity. So instead of going straight to the envelop, you decided to look for him. Going down another corridor you sneaked up behind him. When you found him about ten feet away, indeed spying on the area, an amused grin took over your lips. Oh, Mr Nygma...

You heard footsteps approaching. Startled, you turned around and started to leave, acting natural. You came across Harvey, who gave you a nod, from colleague to colleague. Instead of going back to your counter, you waited a little, just to hear their conversation.  
“Ed! The fuck are you doing here? We're looking for you!” he nearly barked, the tone of his voice clearly seeing 'you weirdo...'.  
“Coming right along, Detective.” he agreed quickly, pursing his lips in disappointment and frustration. You were both satisfied for yourself and upset for him.  
You didn't move, watching his back after he passed next to you. You smiled a little maliciously and finally made your way to the vending machine. You delicately grabbed the envelop and grinned at the green hand-written letters. Sitting back in your chair you opened it.

_“I am in the centre like a keystone, yet even light fears me. I form at the end of life and grow as it disappears. What am I?”_

A smirk played on your lips, thrilled to play this game with the master of riddles. Turning around the paper, you found another note, much like yours. “The Universe. Please leave your answer and your next riddle under the coffee machine table.” The next riddle right? How could he know there would be another one after this? He couldn't. Surely he had deduced that it was your plan, or it was simply an implicit request. Either way, it left you boiling with impatience and joy. Most likely, the clever boy would be guarding the break room now. Maybe even record it? Perhaps it was going too far, but you didn't want him to figure you out so quickly. You wanted his interest to be kindled a little more. You knew that you were on his mind, the anonymous player, and that thought itself procured you a fulfilling sentiment.  
Focusing on the riddle once again, you just fixed your gaze on the letters for a little moment. His handwriting suited his personality just well, you thought, at least what you could see of it: sharp, extravagant, standing out. But that was not the point. Thinking, you thought over the different parts of the clues. It took you a bit of time, but eventually you smiled, working on finding your next very own riddle.

°°°°°

Edward couldn't be waiting at the coffee machine the whole day, he had work to do. At the moment, working involved pouring the fluorescent liquid into a fresh pig's stomach to test how long it would take to deteriorate it. While he waited for the process to be complete, his mind wandered on other lands. If it was not Miss Kringle, then who could it be?  
“ _Clearly someone who is messing with you..._ ” the familiar voice echoed in his mind. His eyes closed and his head twitched to the side.  
“No, it is not. This person clearly enjoys riddles and wants to challenge me.” he objected quickly. The discarnate laughter again.  
“ _Man up, Ed, if you want Miss Kringle or anyone else in here to respect you._ ”

  
Edward didn't answer this time, his jaw tightly clenched, and the voice returned to the darkest part of his mind. He always had to ruin the best moments, didn't he? The nasty and lingering feeling of solitude and marginality brought and nursed by the rejections, the laughs and sideways looks, had turned into an intruding voice, like the conscience society wanted him to be. His palm hit the table suddenly. _He_ was wrong. He was wrong and he would prove it. His expression now dark and inhospitable, he focused his mind back on the melting stomach, realizing just now how tightened his own was. Ignoring the sensation and any other mental static, he worked on the case.  
Exiting Essen's office after he exposed his new discoveries, he headed back to his labs. Smiling to himself, he halted in the middle of a corridor and spun around and walked quickly towards the break room. He stepped aside as an officer left the room, pursing his lips which still bore his smile as he let her pass with an intense glance to the back of her head, before he entered. There was no one else but him at the moment. He immediately brushed his finger under the table. His smile fell as he found nothing. His gaze locked on the closed door, disappointed.

  
A couple of days passed and no envelop was found fixed to the underside of the table. His mood had dropped as well, in reverse proportion to the rise of _his_ mocking interventions. He was trying to convince himself that his challenger had simply not solved the riddle yet. Or maybe had too much work to think about it. Crimes were occurring everyday in Gotham.  
The next morning, he stepped in the break room to get himself a coffee. He stopped at the door, his lips parted and his eyebrows arched in surprise, his gaze growing more piercing. The girl from the deposition section was standing there in front of the table. You turned around to find out who the newcomer was, only to feel a bit taken aback to see him. Your stomach made a flip. You faced the coffee machine again, feeling nervous.  
“Good morning.” you greeted him evenly.  
His brown eyes fell on your (h/c) hair and then down on the back of your uniform before he joined his hands together and walked closer, smiling affably. He stopped in front of the table, standing at your side for a few seconds as if he was wondering which paper cup he would pick, before he turned his head to you.  
“Good morning.” he finally answered. He poured some of the steaming newly made coffee into a cup before he spoke again. “Do you like riddles?”  
Your surprised expression gave him the impression that you didn't expect this question. Truly, you were still startled. “Yeah, sure.”  
His smile widened a little, and the spark in his eyes seemed to be holding a hidden knowledge about the situation. “I am wrapped in mystery, I split up in parts to entertain, and I keep your head reeling. What am I?”  
You frowned, but not the typical frown he was used to. You were offering the gratifying frown of concentration he wanted to see on everyone's faces. After a little moment you looked back up at him. “A riddle?”  
A toothy grin took over his mouth. “Correct!”  
You replied with a soft smile and picked up the paper cup you just filled. “Have a good day.” you said before you made your way out of the room.  
His cheerful gaze didn't leave your back until the door closed behind you. His mouth, still stretched hugely with his grin, opened even more in excitement. His hand dived under the table and found the expected texture. Exhilarating. Immediately, he tore the envelop open. “A black hole. The officers memorial will be the spot.” said the overleaf.

_“Benevolent coat, I remain unseen. Over canyons and peaks, meadows and oceans I am the key to your cool. What am I?”_

An ecstatic chuckle came out of his parted lips. He clenched his fist in a victorious gesture and exited the break room with the riddle in his hand. He was right, and _he_ was wrong. No matter what would happen from then on, it would be a glorious day.

°°°°°

When you reached your desk, your heartbeat was still in a frenzy. You had come to work early, just to be sure that nobody would see you fix the envelop under the table, especially not Mr Nygma. Apparently fate had been playing with you. For the best, it seemed, judging Edward's grin when you tried to solve his riddle, and succeeded. A thought kept you wondering: was this short encounter enough for him to deduce or maybe rather guess, that you were his mysterious admirer? To the very least, it was enough to pique his interest. You weren't sure if he knew your name, or even what your job was really about. Maybe he would do some research on you, maybe not, but something told you that you would be in a part of his mind from now on. What an exciting thought.  
A deep and serious voice brought you back to reality. You looked up to meet the expectant but friendly gaze of Jim Gordon. “I am sorry, what can I do for you Detective?”  
“Future statements could be linked to the case I am working on with Detective Bullock. If you find any similarity with the elements in this file, please inform me immediately.” he asked, handing you the said file.  
“Of course Detective Gordon.” You took the file and laid it on the table, before looking back up at him in case he needed to give you another information.  
He simply nodded with a discreet smile before he made his way back to his working part of the station. Your gaze followed him for a little moment and as the forensic with glasses appeared in your field of vision, your eyes locked with his a few seconds. While he kept heading towards the man you just spoke with, his head remained unshakably turned in your direction. You held his stare for a short moment, before you looked back down at the case file, smiling internally.

For a while, nothing much happened. You were simply storing up the data in a corner of your mind – ignoring the ambient mix of rumble and sounds –, or listening to people making complaints. At one point, as you were re-reading older files, you spotted a similarity with the current case, in a detail. You got up, and crossed the hall and made your way to Essen's office, where James Gordon and Harvey Bullock currently were. Knocking, you entered.  
“Detective Gordon, I found something in this file connected to your case. Here it says that...” while you spoke another person entered the room. “... an empty bottle of hydrogen peroxide had been found in a warehouse in the Roger Yacht Basin.”  
“Which is one of the main chemical components of chemiluminescent glow stick.” a masculine voice stated from behind your left shoulder, stressing the last words emphatically, the intervention eliciting a burst of adrenaline in your body.  
You turned your face in his direction to see Edward smiling at you. “Exactly.” you agreed with a smile and the faintest blush.  
Jim's gaze went from you to him, and you again before he reached forward to silently ask you to hand him the file, which you did, while Essen spoke up. “How could we have missed this detail?”  
“Hydrogen peroxide is used for different purposes, it isn't surprising that you missed it.” the scientist replied matter-of-factly.  
“This file is three months old. It's highly unlikely we will find new evidence in the warehouse.” Gordon commented.  
“But we can find out who rented it back then.” Bullock added.

Next to you, with a smile still on his lips, Ed was alternatively looking at all the speaking people in the room. Clearly, he was enjoying being part of this conversation and of this case, and to be there among those people. His glistening gaze fixed on you, even though you were silent and it lingered there, while the three others were pursuing the discussion. Seeing it in the corner of your eye, you turned your face towards him and stared back at him, smiling a little.  
“Eh oh! Ed! Someone there?” Bullock's voice rose in the room.  
Turning to him you realized Essen, Gordon and him were all looking at the two of you, visibly sceptical. “Yes, Detective?” he inquired, readjusting his glasses.  
“Did you come here for something or just to show off your knowledge in chemistry?” Harvey asked, clearly impatient and exasperated, annoyed even. This behaviour irritated you.  
Edward's light expression fell. “Yes, I have analysed the solution and I discovered that it had been previously heated up to speed up the chemical process of the reaction. He was kind of in a hurry. Also, I have found the trace of another ingredient in the deadly soup: cyanide.” The smile reappeared on his lips.  
“He added a poison in case the fluorescent goo wasn't enough... nice touch.” Harvey remarked sarcastically. “Okay, let's go.” he finished and made his way out, followed by Gordon.  
Essen turned to the both of you. “Good job you two.” She returned to her own work.  
You both left her office and he quickly stepped in front of you. “For how long have you been working in the GCPD?”  
Your eyebrows rose at the question. “It's been a year now.”  
“There was likely a probability of twenty percent that we would be conversing about a case over the last twelve months. What an amazing coincidence that it would happen now, don't you think?” he inquired cryptically, his head turning a little as he spoke.  
A smile broke on your lips. “It is an amusing coincidence, Mr Nygma.” you answered, a hint of mischievousness in your voice.  
It seemed to you that on that moment, his gaze grew more insistent. “I do think so, Miss (l/n).” And with that, he returned to his labs.  
Taking the opportunity, you walked to the officers memorial and looked for the desired envelop. You broke it open and grinned down at the green letters. First you turned the paper. “The ozone layer. Leave your answer at the shooting range.” You focused back on the front.

_“Made of a centre and two ends, I expand higher and lower. Partly in the light and partly in the dark, I shiver and I dig down. What am I?”_

Sitting at your desk, you were working on a file, taking a forced break from trying to solve the riddle. In the corner of your eye, you vaguely perceived the dark silhouette of a man limping his way around the station. Focused, you didn't look up from your papers. Finishing to read the last sentence and lifting your head up thoughtfully, your gaze fell on Edward, going down the stairs at the right end of the area across from yours. Your eyes followed him, and you realized he was often glancing at the left side of the room. Turning your head, you discovered that the limping man from a moment ago was returning his attention, visibly displeased. You frowned, intrigued and confused, as they both stopped next to each other in front of the counter, but neither of them made any move towards you.  
“Can I help you?” the dark-haired man inquired, clearly sarcastic.  
“I don't think so, can you?” Ed replied with irony, earning himself a fake smile and laugh.  
“What do you want?”  
“What I want: the poor have, the rich need, and if you eat it you die.” he replied, self-satisfied.  
“Is this...? Are you asking me a riddle?” The other blinked, taken aback.  
“Do you like riddles?”  
“No.”  
“So do you give up?”  
“Friend look it-...”  
“Nothing! The answer is nothing! The poor have it, the rich need it, and if you eat it...”  
“Who are you?” the other man, clearly exasperated, cut him back with a gesture of his hand.  
“Edward. Nygma. I know who you are.”  
“Then you know that you are standing too close...” Ed's smile disappeared, and he took a step back.  
“Did you know that the male emperor penguins keep their eggs warm by balancing them on their feet? Isn't that neat?"  
From your spot, you were pretty astonished. For an unknown reason to you, Edward was provoking this man, and it was working. The tension between the two men had increased dangerously. If Nygma kept annoying him, you feared that you would have to intervene before the shorter man's patience ran out.  
“Nice to meet you, Sir. Keep moving.” The last sentence sounded like an underlying threat, and it seemed that Edward got the warning, because his expression grew more serious.  
“Will do.” he replied with a little tensed smile before he passed the man and left.

Your gaze followed Nygma a second, before it fell back on the dark man, whose clear blue-green and fulminating eyes now lied on you. A shiver ran through you, but you kept your composure. You had heard about this Cobblepot guy, 'the Penguin' and didn't really want to have anything to do with him. His eyes narrowed a little as he stared at you, daring you to comment on the scene you just witnessed, much to his displeasure.  
“Can you tell me where I can find Detective Gordon?” he asked politely, although it was clear in his voice that he was beyond irritated.  
“Unfortunately, no, I don't know where he is at the moment. Feel free to wait for him.” you replied, offering him an affable smile with pursed lips. Not replying, he turned away from you and made his way to the main entrance.  
This scene tattooed your mind for a long moment. You didn't understand why Nygma would come to him just to ask him a riddle, and provoke him after the man refused to play along. At that moment, you had been completely invisible to him, his full attention visibly focused on his interlocutor. So he didn't do this to impress you, that much you knew. You strongly assumed. To challenge his mind with a notoriously clever criminal? Probably. Surely it was a way to test himself and others, and it seemed that for now you had passed yours.

°°°°°

Hanging around in his labs, Edward had his phone in his hands and was playing a game on it. He was moving a red square around spinning blue balls, calculating the angles in his mind to avoid any fatal contact. It didn't look like much, really, but the title itself had piqued his interest. The World's Hardest Game. Oh really? It was monopolising his attention and reflexes and it was fun, perfect. He had nothing to do at the moment: no new element for the new case, no experience to try. Well, he could find himself one quickly, but he was waiting. What was he waiting for? You. The case of the deadly glow stick had been solved, and he was expecting your next riddle. His last instruction had been to directly bring it to his labs where, of course, he would be. That request had given birth to a beautiful blush on your cheeks, but he hadn't been there to see it. Sadly.  
For over a week now, you had been exchanging new riddles since the one found at the memorial. You had figured out the word “tree” and had worked on a new riddle. His eyes had lingered on you more than needed, and so had yours. More than once you had wished to get physically closer to him, to kiss him. More than once he had tried to smell your perfume. Miss Kringle was forgotten, or at least in a very secluded part of his mind. Now, after those days of playing cat and mouse both with the game and the hints you both had left in your little chats, he wanted to confront you finally.

So there he was, keeping himself free of anything serious, hoping for once that a fascinating bloody murder wouldn't come up suddenly. Passing the final level of the game, he put the phone back on the table. Tapping his fingers on the table, his lips pursed, he looked around the room, looking for something else to do. This is when he heard light footsteps approaching the labs. He jumped on his feet and quickly walked to the door, opening it even before anyone could knock. There you stood, startled by his sudden apparition. You smiled, blushing. Despite your nervousness, you hoped he would be here.  
“Hi, Mr Nygma.” you greeted him lightly.  
“Hello, Miss (l/n). Come in!” he replied eagerly and stepped aside, his eyes not leaving you. When you passed him, his head bowed significantly to try and take a look at what you were half hiding in your hand. “I believe this is for me. Am I right?” This wasn't a question, really.  
You looked down at the envelop, then up at him, and finally you smiled knowingly. “Yes, it is.” You handed it to him, and he quickly unsealed it. This time, the words were hand-written as well, he noticed pleasantly. You watched a little feverishly as he read your words.  
“Essential, I stand as a soul, yet I am often left untouched once my flesh falls. What am I?” he read aloud, taking his time, visibly to savour the words. He stared at the words, visibly lost in his reflection. Then, smiling largely at you, he spoke out. “A core.”  
“Correct.” you approved, smiling back fondly at him. You stared at each other for a couple of seconds before he spoke again.  
“Would you have dinner with me, Miss (l/n)?” he suggested quickly.  
A radiant smile invaded your lips, then your cheeks and your eyes. It seemed to even invade his features, as his own grin widened. “(f/n), please. With pleasure, Edward.”  
“Tonight?” he asked hopefully, and you agreed with a nod, repeating the word affirmatively.

°°°°°

That day, gladly, you left work in the late afternoon. It gave you plenty of time to shower, put some light make-up and a beautiful blue and green dress which enhanced your shape just as needed, and heels. A bit of perfume and you were ready to go. When the doorbell rang and you found him on your “Look up!” doormat, you greeted him with a warm smile. Visibly, he had taken the time to change as well: a deep blue pullover matching his tie and a white shirt underneath, along with dark grey trousers. He didn't look different than usual, as handsome and adorable. You, on the contrary, seemed to be a sight to behold, since he was staring at you with clear enjoyment, his lips slightly parted. You locked the door behind you and turned back to him.  
“Where are we going then, Ed?” you inquired as you both walked out of the building.  
“I thought we could go to my place, and I could cook something for us both.” he stated.  
“Your place? Sure.” Truth be told, you were pretty curious to see his home.  
On the ride to his place, you talked a little about the last case he worked on, or more specifically about the last experience he had to do for the detectives. You were interested in his words, but more importantly, you enjoyed the tone of his voice. He seemed so eager, so passionate about his work. Every new scenario ignited a flame inside him that appeared to be inextinguishable.  
“Do you know that most of manholes are round to avoid their fall in the sewers?” he asked you, seemingly out of nowhere, but you just hadn't witnessed his train of thought.  
“No, I didn't know. Thanks for the information, Ed.” you replied with an amused laugh. “And do you know that the deepest drilling goes 40230 feet below the surface?”  
“Yup, I do.” he grinned at you proudly. Of course he knew.

He stopped the car close to the corner of a street and led you to a red door framed with glass squares. The neighbourhood wasn't the most reassuring of Gotham, but surely not of the most expensive. Also, it was away from the buzzing centre, and you thought that it could have been the main reason why Edward would prefer to live here. You followed him to a black metallic sliding door. This entrance, coupled to the main door of the building, gave to this place something peculiar already. As he unlocked his flat, you were instantly hit by the pulsating green light coming from outside the large window in front of you. While Edward was already making his way to his little kitchen to the right, you looked around you. He had already set the table against the window, with two candles in the middle and flowers, lovely. You smiled amusedly as you noticed that there were beakers for glasses. You put your coat and purse down somewhere and kept looking around. Your eyes fell on the piano and you smiled; you didn't know he could play. As the green light flashed through the window again you turned to it. You would need a bit of time to adjust to it, but it wasn't so unsettling.  
“Do you like lasagne? My recipe includes salmon and spinach.” his voice rose.  
“Oh yes, it's all good.” you assured as you turned to him. “I am going to help you though.” you added and walked to him.  
“Oh it will not be necessary.” he objected quickly, wanting to spare you the trouble.  
“No it is not, but it would be my pleasure.” you insisted gently.  
A smile spread on his lips before he nodded. “Can you cook the salmon then?” You agreed.

  
A comfortable silence set in for a while, only disturbed by the sounds you two made as you prepared dinner. You were standing a few feet from each other, sometimes inches. You enjoyed this closeness, to be able to inhale his perfume. At one point, when you just leaned against the table and watched him from behind, you just wanted to wrap your arms around his waist. But you didn't. It was not really because of your shyness, you feared that he would consider it inappropriate or that it would make him uncomfortable. You enjoyed this mood too much to risk and ruin it.

°°°°°

“ _I must say that I am impressed... I was far from thinking that you would manage to bring a woman in here... Well, the evening is not over yet, is it?_ ”  
Edward frowned but remained silent, washing a pan in the sink. Indeed, he had unexpectedly succeeded in piquing a woman's interest and was now having a great time with her. He would not let this inner voice destroy it for him. He knew what this voice was trying to do, slowly trying to take over. He didn't need this version of himself, and he would prove it to _him_ and to himself tonight. After all, you had liked him for who he was. He smiled fondly.  
“ _She would be falling in my arms already, you know? We would be kissing passionately, or even making wild love already..._ ”  
“This is wrong.” he retorted at _him_ , clearly annoyed.  
“Excuse me?” you asked, surprised.  
He turned to you, caught off guard. “Oh, hum...” he looked down at the pan filled with foam. “The grease is stuck to the pan.” he answered, pursing his lips in a smile.  
“Oh well, let it soak in warm water. Meanwhile, we could sit at the table and have a drink.” you suggested with a soft chuckle.

His smile widened. You were lovely, pretty, clever, and here. He wanted to know more about you, to discuss various things, to laugh with you. You didn't seem to think he was weird, you didn't look upon his habits and behaviour to judge him. He wanted to be closer to you. You both sat at the table. He started to ask you about your hobbies, where your love for riddles came from. You talked about different topics: going from quiz games, to crime novels, to cooking, to music. He enjoyed the meal you shared, prepared together, and your talk. He was feeling at ease, good.  
“I have seen you have a piano. Do you play often?” you questioned him lightly.  
“Not often, no. But from time to time yes. Do you want to hear something?” he offered, his eyebrows rising with eagerness.  
“Sure, I would love to.” you assured, your gaze following him, turning around on the chair, as he got up and sat in front of the instrument.  
He thought a short moment of the piece he would play, before his fingers started to slide on the keys. A soft and peaceful melody filled the room. For a moment he just smiled to himself, but then his brown eyes turned to you. He discovered your fond gaze locked on him, clearly enjoying the music and its player. At one point, he heard your chair tapping against the floor and the soft echo of your steps. His eyes met yours again as you stood to his right. He played a little longer under your appreciative contemplation before he stopped, turning to you again.  
“You play wonderfully, Edward.” you stated.

He grinned and got up, feeling a blossoming sensation spread in his chest at your compliment. He faced you, his intense gaze detailing your skin, your nose, your mouth, before it locked with yours. You took a step forward, and he swallowed. You were the first to move, leaning up to press your lips against his full ones softly. The contact lasted a few blessed seconds, before you pulled away a dozen of inches to grin at him.  
“I like you very much, Mr Edward Nygma.” you confessed just above a whisper.  
“I do share this liking, Miss (f/n) (l/n)...” he admitted just as loudly.  
Your grin widened and you took this answer as an invitation to reiterate your gesture. You kissed his lips again, this time wrapping your hands around his chest. This closeness with you ignited a spark of joy inside of him. The pressure of his lips increased against yours, his hands gently holding your shoulder and your hip. When you parted, you smiled warmly at each other.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! If you think that this story would be even better with a love scene, tell me. If a lot of people ask for one, I might write it. =P  
> PS: Special thanks to some of my friends who tested my riddles. Hopefully they are good enough.  
> PS²: I own you (nya ahahah) and the storyline. I don't own the characters and the encounter between Nygma and Cobblepot. (which I love to no end ♥)


End file.
